When I pissed in the snow- poem!

When I pissed in the snow- Ian Chan

In death's final days,
the divine madness seeps in.
The poet pays the price,
Plato observes and sighs.
No beauty, no aesthetic, just spin.
To lean beside the lonely
it's all I have.

Family members gather to be blocked out- the ghosts
arrive within. Lonely begins.

Winter's weathered soul, chill until the end,
the cold seeps in, one last attempt to...
tell everyone of fuck-off!
The drama turns pragmatic,
with a dry, shuddering death boner,
filled with excitement and awe.

The madness is embraced,
an outlook is lost.
One last coup de grace for tribute
of the dead.
Summer just lost its memory,
of when I pissed in Winter's snow.